That left only one Lightning. A rather young one by the looks of him. Addolgar faced him, hopped toward him on his good leg. He took his blood-covered ax and pressed the blunt head against the youngster’s throat. He pushed until the Lightning was backed up against a wall.
“Cadwaladr trash,” the youngster hissed, trying to hide the fact he was terrified.
“Go home, Lightning,” Addolgar told him. “Go home and tell them what happened here today. They’ll not only face the Penardduns if they are ever stupid enough to come back here, but they’ll also face Cadwaladr trash. Now leave my sight, boy, before I get testy.”
The Lightning slid against the wall, moving away from that ax head. Once he was far enough away, he turned, and ran out the way Braith assumed those Lightnings had all come in.
Owena sat back on her haunches, crossed her forearms over her chest and said, “You shouldn’t be playing around on that bad leg, Mountain.”
Addolgar’s back tensed at Owena’s words. “I’m not playing around on my leg, and stop calling me Mountain!”
Addolgar turned around, ready to tell Owena what she could do with her bloody nicknames when he saw Braith. She looked . . . happy. As happy as he’d ever seen her.
He grinned and announced, “Look at you, Braith of the Darkness, all covered in Lightning blood! My father would be so proud!”
“Thank you.” Braith held up his hammer. “Can I keep this?”
“Absolutely,” he said, hopping over to her. “You’ll need it.” He reached her and pulled her against his body, hugging her tight. He let out a breath at having her safe with him again. Even better . . . she hugged him back.
“I was so worried,” she told him, “when Heledd told us we hadn’t gotten all of them. I realized they must have come in through another way.”
“Lightnings like the sneak attack. Too bad for them, I love killing Lightnings, so it all worked in my favor.”
“Good job, Mountain,” Crystin praised. “Your father would be proud of you, too, I think.”
“And I thought you knew my father.”
Braith leaned her head back and looked up at Addolgar. “Wait, why do I need your hammer?”
“It’s your hammer now. At least until we have one made for you. And you’ll need it for when we go after your bastard father.”
Braith broke out in another smile that warmed Addolgar’s heart. She was whole now, wasn’t she? Truly whole.
Crystin stepped up to them, placed her claw on Braith’s shoulder. “We’ll clean up this gods-damn mess, take care of the hatchlings, and head out tomorrow morning to find Emyr.”
Braith studied her aunt. “You don’t have to, Aunt Crystin. This is my fight.”
“You’re a Daughter of the House of Penarddun, Braith, which makes this our fight.”
“Plus,” Owena casually tossed in, “your bastard father’s pissed us off for the last gods-damn time.”
There was agreement from Braith’s other aunts and cousins.
“He sent Lightnings after us like we’re some bloody cattle to be auctioned off,” Caron growled.
“Which is bad enough,” Ffraid added. “But he also sent them after his own daughter. If my Da was here right now, he’d be losing his mind.”
“Let’s not involve your fathers,” Owena said. “You know how they are when they get cranky.”
“And they’ll just blame us,” Aledwen muttered.
“Besides, they’re encamped closer to Dark Plains than they are the Outer Plains so it’ll take them days to get here. And, to be honest”—Crystin studied her blood-and-brain-covered sword—“I am so very ready to end your father, Braith of the Darkness.”
Braith looked at Addolgar, then her aunts and cousins. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Chapter 19
Three days later, his wounded leg strong again, Addolgar stepped up behind Lady Katarina. She was still very pretty, but she was no match for his Braith.
“My lady?”
She didn’t turn around, her focus on the field of flowers she stood in. “I really thought they’d leave you be if I made it look like I’d killed you. I had no idea they’d want to make sure you were dead.”
“I’m a Cadwaladr, my lady. One would be foolish not to ensure a Cadwaladr is dead. We have a way of coming back again and again until we are.”
“Well, I’m glad Lady Braith was there. I could tell by the way she looked at you during our trip that she’d make sure you survived.”
“She did.”
Katarina slowly faced him. She studied him for a long moment before she nodded her head in approval. “I see.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Sergeant Addolgar . . . understand, my goal wasn’t to betray the Queen. Or my kind.”
“Then what are you doing, my lady?”
She sat back on her haunches, clutched her claws together. “What can I say? I fell in love.”
Addolgar couldn’t help but feel vaguely disgusted. “With Elder Emyr?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, gods, no! No, no, no. Not Emyr. Herleif.”
“Herleif?”
“Of the . . . uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “Torbjörn Horde.”
“A Lightning?” Addolgar struggled to control his rarely seen anger. “You betrayed us all for a Lightning?”
“I betrayed no one, Sergeant. I swear that on the souls of my ancestors.”
“But you sent them to raid the Penardduns’ cave.”
“That was not Herleif’s Horde.” She closed her eyes, brought the tips of her talons to her temples, and rubbed. “I was a fool, Addolgar.”
“For trusting Emyr?”
“Aye.” She opened her eyes, dropped her claws to her sides. “The deal was simple. Soldiers that were loyal to Emyr and his sons would escort me safely through the Northlands and into Torbjörn territory.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Herleif’s troops given to Emyr for him to command against the Queen.”
“How is that not betrayal, m’lady?” When Katarina looked away, Addolgar guessed, “They were going to kill Emyr and his sons instead.”
“I knew he was not someone the Queen would miss.”
“Oh, well then . . .”
“I know you don’t understand this, Addolgar. You’re a Cadwaladr.”
Perhaps ’twas true. Perhaps the Cadwaladrs would never plan such a thing because they weren’t royal enough to justify such shitty behavior. Yet he could also say with absolute certainty that the honor-bound Braith and her Penarddun kin would never do such a thing either. And their blood was as royal as Katarina’s.
“But it turned out,” she went on, unaware that Addolgar saw her much differently now, “Emyr already had plans of his own in place. He was going to hand me over to Olgeir and his Horde and, in return . . .” She swallowed, continued on, “In return, they were going to march around to the borderlands between the Southlands and the Western Mountains.”
Addolgar blinked in surprise. “They were going to strike your father.”
“Aye. And then attack the Queen’s troops from her weakest point.”
“Olgeir’s smarter than I gave him credit for,” Addolgar grudgingly admitted.